Pattaya H3

PH3 Run 1781 Scribe

Show Scribe Report by The Wizard


The day began rather earlier than usual with an unsolicited message from SIR FREE WILLY letting me know that the A-site was dry and that he, LADY FLIPPER, TAMPAX and PHANTOM (the hares) were participating in a spot of nude sunbathing, the thought of which was almost enough for me to put my running shoes back into the cupboard and say bollocks to it. However in the true spirit of English stoicism I carried on preparing myself for the day ahead.

Thankfully Baht buses were at the Buffalo Bar waiting for us this week, but despite precise directions and maps on the website, and navigator, MENSTRUAL DISORDER, riding shotgun, our particular bus still managed to do a series of unnecessary U-turns, unsurprisingly ending up at a previous point on our travels. Worry not though, as the hour long journey was soon over, LADY FLIPPER and LOST CAUSE guiding vehicles into the A-site which was shaded and grassy, very pleasant indeed.

The hares had obviously gone to considerable effort to make the A-site a shrine to St George with flags and bunting all around. Interestingly there were several other items on display including a short history of St George, the history of Cockney Rhyming slang - in fact it had very much the feel of a junior classroom especially when you looked up and saw the shadowy shape of SFW directing operations. I'm not sure why one of the items on display was a newspaper article detailing a criminal enterprise from some years ago in which SFW was involved, it's really not something to be proud of, in my opinion.

However, the first circle was called and all the usual announcements were made; no new shoes were forthcoming although SEAL SUCKER was nominated for the third run in a row. Brief instructions from the hares were the final act before we set off. The trail itself was well laid and had several interesting checks, although the first half of it was mostly unshaded and the afternoon sun was particularly fierce, the heat taking its toll on runners and walkers alike. In consideration of this it was a thankfully short trail, just under 7 km, and on return the hares were busy serving snakebites (a mix of lager and cider, traditionally imbibed on the few hot days in England every year) to everyone.

Another nice touch from the hares, as was the abundance of fruit, crisps and chocolate bars - despite the fact that the chocolate was out of date, in fact so out of date that the actual date printed on the wrapper was in Roman numerals, but being a bunch of greedy freeloaders we all got stuck into them anyway.

The second circle got underway on time and as usual the hares were iced and forced to listen to everyone's views on the run, which were generally very positive, especially when consideration was given to a previous run hared by SFW, which he probably did from the comfort of his car until he got bored and stopped throwing paper from the window.

SFW conducted his weekly Raffle despite a rather boisterous circle (blame the snakebites) and MENTAL DISORDER, the GM, putting CRAPPER and SEAL SUCKER in the bucket for not paying attention (really like a classroom now) and no sooner had the GM released those two from the naughty step than BEETROOT HEAD and ARSE BANDIT were in the bucket for the same misdemeanour. The Raffle prize winners, well no one really cares who they are but it's worth noting that GENERAL KIDNEY WIPER picked up the large bottle of wine for the second week running.

MD retook the circle and iced all the Septics so that he could remind us of PSYCHO STRANGLER's altercation in the Immigration Office in Jomtien many months ago. A recurring story and a recurring theme to be honest.

EMPEROR AIRHEAD entertained us whilst the hares were cooling their backsides again, most memorably recounting yet another SFW run when everyone was expecting SFW to appear at the A-site on a white charger (where he was going to find a horse that strong is anybody's guess) but disappointment prevailed as SFW was a no show, but only because he had been incarcerated, as good as an excuse as you can get I'm sure.

NECROPHILIA NIGHT RIDER, STUPID KRAUT KUNT, TURD BURGLAR and NOT SO STUPID KRAUT KUNT were all iced as EA continued his much appreciated time in the circle. Interestingly when EA asked for Englishmen to reveal themselves so he could ask about St George GKW raised his hand and told us an interesting but nonetheless bullshit story about St George inventing the Catherine wheel (you should not have cracked open that wine till you got home).

Two virgins were introduced to the circle, and it seemed they were having a good time which is nice to know. However this was short lived as EA handed the circle to THE WIZARD who called the virgins back in to establish why only one of them had bought a hash shirt. Colin from Canada, the offender, could offer no reasonable explanation and was presented with a deal; wear a spare hash shirt provided by TW or sit in the bucket. Not surprisingly and without much thought he elected to wear the shirt, which he was given, but not before the shirt was soaked in the icy water.

For some reason that passed me by, the hares wanted to do their song next rather than at the traditional juncture. SFW put all the Germans on the ice and then sang rather too many verses of a Noel Coward song that was popular in its day, mocking as it did, the Germans. It was a bit of an interlude in proceedings and allowed us all to regroup and get beers in.

MD then called SPERM POLLUTER to the bucket for behaviour witnessed on another hash and in some form of retribution called CANNONBALL to sit on SP which he did with great gusto (you must have been very naughty elsewhere SP), and as SP pretended to be having fun increased the payload on SP by getting SFW and another lightweight, GASMAN, to join in the party. I'm not sure how SP survived, or in fact how the bucket remained intact but everyone got out alive (we'll get a report on SP's internal organs later in the week - apparently his external organ was still fully functional).

As is the norm these days the awards was a bit of a mix up, WANK-KING'S WANKER was iced for previous fuck ups and ARSE BANDIT given belated congratulations on 50 sign ups - he used to be a runner but lapsed once and is now a full time fully paid member of the Beer Hunters. Where did it all go wrong mate?

SCAR W/2T'S called the patriotic SFW to the ice to enquire what is so great about being English, well it takes an Englishman to know, but SFW pointed out that everyone was speaking our language and that was just about good enough for SCAR. SP and GASMAN were back on the ice and to preserve the innocent we shall just say that SP can now be referred to as the Virgin Inspector, a role he fulfills with the aid of an extra strong flashlight. Enough said about that.

Next in were the Belgians (or Belgiums as they are often referred to by some) and the question asked why are there only 4 of them when not so long ago there was often a dozen or so.' Injuries' was the pc reply and no further cross examination followed. Touchy subject.

THE WIZARD then did his duty with the 'Wanker of the Week' ultimately passing it on from MD to PSYCHO STRANGLER who actually won the public vote but scurried off from the ice before time and was subsequently called back to take the award from MD.

Things were starting to draw to a close and it was time for SCAR and NO MORE CUM to take a seat. MD, with a tear in his eye started the goodbyes, as both of these fine RA's are departing Thailand for their summertime homes before the next hash. It was all getting a bit messy with MD extolling their every virtue, even NMC's noncy hair cut, but just when you think you're going to be sick from all the sycophantic arse licking reality kicks in as the circle take back control and sing "Fuck Off Ya Cunts" to see them off. Thank god for the power of the people. A voice from the crowd, unidentified as yet, was heard to say, "Thank fuck those 2 are going, now there will be enough ladyboys to go around." Identify yourself.......!

BEN 10 led the Hash Hymn in fine style and that was it, another great hash over. So we got into the cars and buses and headed off into the dark. On the bus home someone asked how did CANNONBALL get his name, like that is a question you need to ask, but apparently the truth is different to what you may expect. Allegedly he was adopted by a couple of circus workers. Part of the adoption process was an interview on the parents lifestyle and questions were asked about their nomadic way of life and how they could provide an education for a prospective child. Oh, we'll employ a full time teacher to tour with us to ensure a fully comprehensive education they said. And what about health care? Likewise, we'll employ a full time nurse and have a leading doctor on call. That's good, said the adoption agency rep, have you given any thought to whether you'd prefer a little girl or boy? No they said, we don't give a fuck as long as they fit in the cannon.

On-On!  The Wizard


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